Two Sides to Every Story
by InspiredtoRead
Summary: There's always two sides to every story...a random collection of Olitz tales
1. The Debate

Two Sides to Every Story: Debate Prep

**15 Minutes After the First General Election Debate – PCN Studio**

'_I'm stunned…just stunned. I mean he looked like he was a million miles away. I cannot put into words what I just witnessed.' Jackie Miller, conservative pundit extraordinaire, sputtered._

'_Did you see the smile?' Royce Cain, the lone liberal commentator, lamented._

'_When was he NOT smiling or smirking like a goddamn fool?" Jackie snapped._

'_Haa! No this smile said it all.' Royce beamed. 'Reston was wailing on him and Governor Flyboy was in la la land daydreaming about what I can only imagine wa—, you know what, I can't imagine…must have been one hell of a daydream.'_

'_Damn well better have been worth it…' John Boone, a well respected Republican donor, growled. 'It may have just cost him the election.'_

_**Day Before the First General Election Debate – St. Regis Hotel, NYC**_

"Please Livie…" Fitz whispered softly against her skin while playing with the buttons on her blouse. "Please sweet baby."

"Fitz, no!" Olivia half-heartedly placed her right hand over his hand, sprawled across her chest, to still his movements.

"Livie…" He whined quietly as his tongue gently slid up her neck and teased the crevice behind her ear. He grinned against her throat as she involuntarily moaned and arched her neck toward him. "Please."

Sighing, Olivia met his eyes and swallowed another moan as she held his lust-filled stare. Her eyes fluttered shut as his fingers, occasionally brushing against her bare skin, slowly undid the buttons on her blouse.

"Governor Grant, yo—ouch!" Olivia jerked away from him and glared in disbelief while rubbing the side of her neck. "You…bit me!"

"You called me 'Governor'." He answered matter-of-factly. He gently pulled her back to him and peppered soft, sensual kisses along the offending mark he'd left.

"Seriously Fitz, are you a vampire now?"

"Baby, I can be whatever you want me to be."

"How about a presidential candidate who's studiously preparing for his first general election debate without trying to get into his fixer's pants?"

"Olivia" He growled in response; his fingers began playing with her jean's zipper.

"Fitzgerald" she mocked.

"Fine, let's make a deal." He stilled and looked at her. "You quiz me, I answer."

"oookay" Olivia sensed a catch. _Wait for it_. She thought.

"BUT, we only continue this farce for as long as you can." His grin was a little too wide for her liking and his eyes shinned a little too brightly. "Deal?"

"Deal." She eyed him wearily but decided that two could play at whatever game he had up his sleeves. "What do you say in response to Governor Reston's claim that your proposed tax policy doesn't add up?"

"Well," He drawled as his fingers resumed petting her zipper.

He slowly slid the zipper down and gently unlatched the button.

"I'd say, a fair and balanced approached is the way to go."

He lightly trailed a finger along the path of her stomach where lace met bare skin and smirked as her abdomen twitched beneath his fingers.

"We can have an across the board tax cut if we are serious about eliminating certain loopholes and reducing certain deductions."

He watched her chest rapidly rise and fall, and her eyes shut, as his fingers occasionally ducked beneath the lace and glide over her soft curls.

"Next question."

He placed wet kisses between her navel and lace, drying each spot with his warm breath.

"Umm, Governor Reston has said…umm, he's said that you…umm Governaaah" Olivia jumped at the sudden feel of his tongue ducking beneath lace and leisurely sweeping across her skin.

"Liv, you were saying?" Fitz slid her jeans down her thighs, his hands caressing very inch of her newly exposed legs. "Governor Reston said what now?"

"Right, Governor Reston has said…" For the life of her, Olivia could not fathom what words were supposed to come next. "Fuck it." She pulled him up and kissed him hard. He grinned against her lips before deepening the kiss, rolling on top of her and pinning her beneath him.

**15 Minutes After the Debate – Bernard College**

"Sir, what was that?!" Cyrus yelled. "No seriously, what the fuck happened?"

"Cy," Fitz sighed. "I messed up ok. I'll do better in the next debate."

"Sir with all do respect, this may have been the election!" Cyrus eyed Fitz angrily. "I don't understand, when I left you yesterday you were fine…More than fine, READY. What the fuck happened?"

"Ok enough Cyrus, he said he messed up." Olivia interjected.

"Sir, Mellie is on the line." A junior staffer skittishly informed Fitz.

"I'll take that." Cyrus snapped, snatching the phone from the staffer. Turning to Olivia, he begged, "Talk some sense into him please. They need the room…NOW"

Olivia remained silent until everyone filed out of the greenroom. Once alone, she slowly turned to face Fitz.

"What the hell was that Governor?!" She seethed.

"Oh so it's Governor now?" He cocked his head to one side as he regarded her.

"Look," She paused and took three deep breaths. "Do you want to be president?"

He gave her a pointed look but did not verbally respond to her question.

"Well do you?"

"Olivia…"

"Do. You."

"No, I mean yes, I mean I don't know."

"Which one Fitz?"

"I don't know, ok. I don't know anymore." He grew agitated and began to pace.

"Fitz," She said softly. "Nothing's changed. You're still the best man for the job. The country needs you."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"I need you."

"Fitz…"

"No, Liv…just listen." He reached for her hand but stopped short of contact when she glared at him – an unwelcomed reminder of their surroundings and circumstances.

"You say nothing's changed but that's not true, everything's changed. I stood up there tonight and before I knew it I was thinking about last night and about all the sounds you made." He chuckled when she rolled her eyes. "And I just kept wondering how many other different sounds I've yet to discover. I kept thinking about all the things I'd rather be doing with you and to you than be up there on that stage."

"Hence the shit eating grin?"

"Yeah."

"Don't do it again Fitz." Olivia commanded. "I mean it, I won't be the reason you lose this race. You do it again and we're over. Understood?"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Then I guess I have no choice do I?"

"Oh you always have a choice Governor." Her eyes held a promise of things to come, a promise of satisfaction, a promise of answers to his deepest and most wanton questions.

"Yeah, ok, next two debates…they're handled."

"Atta boy."


	2. La Perla

Two Sides to Every Story

Chapter 2 – La Perla

**January 3, 2010**

This was a bad idea. No, to say this was "bad" would be too kind. This was a terrible idea. When Cyrus had first broached the subject Fitz had been adamantly against it. It seemed he had been the only one with the good sense to recognize this as a disaster in the making. But why listen to him, he was after all only the President-Elect; apparently ornamental and not yet functional.

So there he sat, on the eve of his 23rd wedding anniversary, aware of his audience but unable to tear his eyes from the contents of the box that lie on his lap. He forced his lungs to take in air and willed his hands not to tremble as he lightly stroked the soft fabric. His fingers idly played with the material, slipping in and out of the creases and folds. Black. Silky smooth, like his favorite pair of bed sheets. There was no need to lift it out of the box; he knew exactly what it was. It was simple, it was elegant, it was _her_. It was decidedly demure, yet dangerously sexy, it was _her_. And she was pissed. She'd always played fair, above board, yet this was anything but. _Fuck_, he thought as he tried to not squirm in his seat.

As the material continued to glide across and slide through his fingers, his mind was transported to a night not so long ago when he'd playfully dropped her onto the middle of the bed. The ends of the already crumpled sheet had floated into the air and he'd stood mesmerized by the sight of them slowly descending and landing softly across her naked form. Black. Silky smooth, just like this damn slip he could not bring himself to stop touching. _Fuck._

**December 28, 2009**

"Absolutely not Cyrus!" Fitz bellowed, pacing the length of his office. "Mellie, help me out."

"Fitz," Mellie sighed. "It's one interview; a human interest piece at that." She stepped into his path, effectively stopping him in his tracks. While glaring into his eyes, she added sweetly, "Surely you can fake it with me for one night. It is our anniversary after all."

"Liv?" His begged. "Back me up here. I'm getting ready to run a country I don't have time to parade my marria—"

"For Christ's sake Fitzgerald." Mellie interrupted. She turned to face the younger woman and added innocently, "In fact Liv, would you mind going to buy a little something for me as a gift for my husband of 23 years? I would go myself but with the media and all, you know."

Olivia looked from Mellie to Fitz, who was subtly shaking his head "no," then back to Mellie. This wasn't the first time she thought she'd recognized a challenge in Mellie's eyes. It was times like these she could have sworn Mellie knew that she was in love with her husband and he with her. Olivia was stuck between a rock and a hard place. To deny Mellie's request would likely raise suspicions amongst the rest of the staff. But to comply, well that was its unique brand of torture.

"Besides, I think a candid reaction to _my_ gift would make for a great story. What do you think honey?" Mellie turned to face Fitz and watched as he tried to subtly look past her and catch Olivia's eye. "Honey, something tasteful yet holds a promise of what's to come?"

Fitz gulped and wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. He wondered, not for the first time, if Mellie knew. _Nah._ He disregarded the thought. _Forgive me Livie._ He thought silently as he put on his "happy and in love" face.

"Hmm, sounds good Mel. Whatever you want." He smiled a smile of a man in love as he leaned in to quickly give Mellie a peck on the lips.

"So Liv, will you pick up something for _us_? _We'd _greatly appreciate it."

"Sure," Olivia smiled and focused on Mellie, refusing to meet Fitz's eyes. "No problem."

**January 3, 2010**

_What a lucky bitch._ Janice Lancome, of the _LA Sun_, thought enviously as she watched the President-Elect become undone by whatever was in the box on his lap. She observed the soon to be US First Lady and noted the self-satisfied smirk that played on her lips as she watched her husband stare at his gift.

Normally these fluff pieces were awkward at best but Janice found herself grateful that she'd drawn the short stick. She did, however, want to kick herself for agreeing to no cameras; this was priceless. The interview had started off uneventful, perhaps even a little strained. She could have sworn she saw the President-Elect throw heated glares at his wife as she sweetly handed him her gift and wished him a happy anniversary. He'd smiled lovingly and eagerly opened the box. Almost immediately he froze and stopped breathing.

Janice leaned forward in her seat and strained her neck, trying desperately to see what was in the box. She watched his chest rapidly rise and fall as his ears and neck took on the slightest shade of red. She grew embarrassingly warm as she watched him shift in his seat.

"Fitz," Mellie tried to break him of his trance. "Honey, you like it?"

Janice watched as California's first lady smiled shyly at her then turned to her husband again. She placed a hand on his knee and called his named again. As if being awoken from a dream, he dragged his eyes from the box to his knee and stared at her hand. He then looked over at Janice and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she gazed into his clouded eyes. _What a lucky bitch._

"Are we done?" He asked, his voice thick with desire.

Janice looked from the President-Elect to his wife and back again and smiled a knowing smile. "I think I have what I need. Thank you for your time sir."

Fitz remained seated with box in lap, as Mellie walked Janice to the door. He concentrated on regulating his breathing and slowing down his rapidly beating heart.

"Well, that went well." Cyrus stated causing Mellie to smirk in response.

* * *

"What the hell where you thinking?" Fitz barked as he stormed past her and stood in the middle of the room, his chest heaving.

She softly closed the door and turned to face him. He looked disheveled and agitated. He looked pissed. Best of all, he looked turned on, ready to jump out of his skin. _Good._

"You know everyone was looking for you right?" She shifted her weight and regarded him closely. He seemed to be looking through her, not quite seeing her. She wondered briefly if he was still in the sitting room reliving the interview.

"I mean you stormed out, box firmly positioned in front of your crotch, limping slightly." She chuckled softly as his head snapped upward and he met her eyes. "People are certainly going to talk."

"You think this is funny?" Fitz stared at her in disbelief. "I almost made an ass of myself in there!"

"Almost?" She mocked. "You did hear me, right? Box, dick, limp."

"Look," he sighed. "You've made your point."

"What point would that be?"

Their eyes locked. Their breathing changed and became labored. For the first time since entering the room, visions of black silk began to fade and he took note of what she was wearing – a white silk robe, which hung loosely on her frame.

"Livie," He murmured. "You've made your point and I'm sorry." His eyes were trained on her exposed shoulder as he involuntarily took a step toward her.

"I still don't know what poi—" He'd closed the gap between them and softly placed an open mouth, wet kiss on her distracting shoulder. "Umm, Fitz?"

"Yes Livie" He lightly bit her shoulder and trailed his hand over her silk covered right breast, down her stomach, and landed on her robe's tie. With the slightest of tugs, the robe fell open and he snaked his arm around her sheer covered waist.

"Don't ever agree to me buying your wife lingerie again." She whispered as her neck fell to the side and she melted under his assault. "Are we clear?"

"Never, ever again." Fitz whispered against her neck as his hand ran down her back, over her ass and came into contact with bare skin. "Livie, what are you wearing?" He took a step back and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Slowly taking off the robe, she stated nonchalantly, "well, I didn't want my trip to be a complete waste."

"Mikado" His whispered appreciatively as his eyes roamed over the sheer blush colored halter top babydoll and matching thong. He moaned at how little it left to his imagination. "God you're beautiful."

"I take it you like it." She teased.

"Like it? I love it." He'd seen this in one of her magazines once and had immediately thought of her and how she'd look on their wedding night. He'd thought of how the blush color would compliment her golden brown complexion and how she'd glow beneath the moonlight.

As he pulled her flush against him, he thought of his anniversary. He'd always thought it was fittingly ironic that his cold marriage would have started during one of the coldest months of the year. He'd always been indifferent at best to this time of the year. But the funny thing about anniversaries was that they could sometimes take on a whole new meaning and evoke an entirely different response. He now associated this day with another anniversary.

It was this date, last year, after having just lost the Iowa Caucus, that he first met Olivia Pope. It was this date, last year, he fell in love at first sight. It was this date, last year, that all became right in the world and he felt, for the first time, alive.

"Happy Anniversary Olivia."

"Happy Anniversary Fitz."

* * *

A/N: Thanks ladies for the fantastics reviews! As some of you've asked, yes I definitely will update Belly Tales soon (much sooner rather than later). Hope you enjoyed this update! :)


	3. Turnabout is Fair Play

Two Sides to Every Story

Chapter 3 – Turnabout is Fair Play

**February 20, 2010**

Cyrus was not the most perceptive man on the planet. Hell, he was not the most perceptive man in his own house. But Cyrus knew when something was not right; when something was not adding up; when something was happening right under his nose.

He'd entered the Oval office in search of the President, to discuss the upcoming State of the Union address, but was instead greeted by the sight of Olivia, seated behind the resolute desk, decidedly on edge.

"Tell me again why you're seated behind the President's desk?"

"Umm…" She shifted uncomfortably in Fitz's chair and balled her fists tightly.

"Are you ok?" Cyrus was concerned. She seemed distracted, unfocused, and to be having difficulty breathing.

"Course." She unclenched her fists, placing her palms flat against the desk's surface.

"Olivia," He took a step closer to the desk but paused at the panicked expression that flew across her face. "Where's Fitz?"

"He uhh, He umm, went for a walk." "She gestured wildly toward the side doors. "Which is why I'm seated here, at his desk…alone, tweaking the speech."

"Something wrong with couch?" Cyrus eyed her wearily.

"No, I don't know…you know him, something about the laptop cord not fitting, stretching… something." She spoke in a hurried manner.

"The laptop's on the couch"

"Fuck!"

Cyrus' head snapped up in surprise, not only at the expletive that escaped her lips, but also at the loud smacking sound that echoed through the room as her palm slammed down onto the desk.

"I mean, fuck, you're right…I'll just mark up this hard copy." Her breath seemed to be coming in spurts as though she'd just run a marathon. "I really have to finish...THiS, I have to fini—, i have to got to get back to this Cy…you know how he gets."

Cyrus' face was the perfect portrait of befuddled as he threw a glance over his shoulder at Olivia. His frowned deepened when just as his hand made contact with the doorknob she released a ragged sigh. Before crossing the threshold completely, he turned slightly and locked eyes with her. He watched her slouched form snap to attention and she threw him a wide-eyed smile.

"Work, work, wo—" Her body jerked as she fell into a fit of coughs. "I'm ok Cy. Sooo much work to do."

* * *

**Seconds Earlier**

Olivia walked into a trap. The fact that she went willingly, eyes wide open, was neither here nor there. She was a skittish dear mesmerized by the big bad wolf's shiny coat, his pearly white teeth, and his hypnotizing eyes. She couldn't be blamed for the position she was currently in – pun intended.

Whoever said revenge was a dish best served cold clearly never bothered to relay that message to President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. No, Fitz played by a different set of rules. As she struggled to breathe, Olivia had the wherewithal to recognize revenge, no matter the form. Fitz's personal brand of revenge was anything but cold; it was warm, slippery and wet, and determined to drive her mad.

"Fitz stop" Olivia whined as she tried to stand up.

"Olivia" Fitz growled from his position on the floor. He reached up and grabbed her by the front of her pants, pulling her back into his seat as he retreated into the darkness under his desk. "I warned you what would happen if you sent Britta into another meeting in your stead"

"But I told you that I wa—" She was rendered mute by the sound of her zipper being lowered.

"First time, ok fine you're busy." He unbuttoned her pants and slipped his hand beneath her blouse, caressing her bare skin.

"Second time, you're avoiding me." He gently pulled her pants and panties down her past her thighs, over her knees, and allowed them to pool at her ankles. His fingers danced lightly up both sides of her legs, playfully stroked the backside of her knees, and caressed her thighs; his palms coming to rest against both sides of her hip.

"Third time, well third time you're purposefully needling me." He pushed his chair backwards until he was able to scoot out from under the desk. "Surely you must have known, I'd find away to make you pay."

Olivia was lost in a haze of desire. Fitz had woven a spell the depths of which Olivia was sure she would never return. He was saying something to her, that much she knew. His mouth was moving, but the words were lost on her. She sat dumbfounded, staring into his eyes as he smirked and took matters into his own hands.

He lifted her legs over his head, sliding entirely between them, and wrapped his legs around his chair. He shimmied his way back beneath the desk, dragging his chair with him.

He lifted her legs upon his shoulders, causing her to slouch and slip further down the chair. He placed slow, sensual kisses up the inside of her left thigh. His breath ghosted across her core as he moved to her right side and kissed down her thigh.

She moaned softly as one hand slipped beneath the desk and rested lightly on top of his head.

"Keep both hands on top of the desk." He commanded, his hot breath sending shivers up her spine.

He kissed her soundly between her thighs; anticipating of what was to come, stealing the breath from her lungs.

A rapid knock sounded at the door and suddenly it was opening. Olivia tried to close her legs and push Fitz's head away from her sex but her pooled pants and underwear effectively trapped Fitz where he was. He batted her hand away, while burying his nose in her soft patch of curls.

Olivia was convinced the Universe was out to get her. She believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Fitz was actively trying to kill her. As she tried to focus on what Cyrus was saying, Fitz caressed, licked and kissed her core. She was overheating and beginning to feel lightheaded when he latched onto her extended nub and began to suck. He gently bit down and she slapped at the desk as her nerves went haywire.

She had no clue how she managed to get Cyrus to finally leave the Oval Office. But she sighed in relief and release as she watched him exit. She grabbed a fistful of Fitz's curls and yanked hard.

"You think you're funny?"

"Hmm," was his only response as he continued his assault on her senses. "What did I tell you about your hands."

She immediately released him and leaned back against the chair.

She was close…So close to the edge. He nibbled, sucked, and probed. The tension in her abdomen spread to her toes, fingers, everywhere. So close.

"Livie"

"Umm?" She murmured with her eyes closed. "Please don't stop."

"No more avoiding me, ok?"

"Yes, no more…yes." At that moment she would have agreed to anything he asked.

"I love you." He whispered and blew softly, sending her over the precipice.

* * *

A/N: So I sat down to finally update Belly Tales (so sorry for the ridic delay, work has been really crazy and the motivation has not been there...but an update is imminent), and instead this happened. *shrugs* I blame all my thirsty tumblr and twitter sisterwives...y'all know who you are!. Anyway, hope you like.


	4. Preview: Another You in a Minute

A/N: No excuse. None. But...Slowly but surely coming back to writing...figured I'd post the 1st half of the next chapter. Whole chapter should be up tomorrow. Also, I swear there will be a Belly update within the next week or so.

PREVIEW: Chapter 4. Another You In A Minute

"When you said around the corner I didn't think you meant literally around the corn—" Olivia, having swung the door open as she attempted to place her wine glass on the nearby table, paused midsentence upon straightening up and turning to face the entryway. She stared apprehensively at the two figures in her doorway. "Mellie. Mr. President. Wh-what are you doing here?" She greeted, drawing the lapels of her white silk robe close together in hopes of hiding the red lacey negligee that lie beneath.

Neither Mellie nor Fitz immediately returned Olivia's greeting. Each stared at Olivia with differing expressions and vastly different thoughts taking root in their respective consciousness. For Mellie's part, she eyed Olivia up and down, taking in her appearance, or lack thereof, and noting the candles, bottle of Shiraz and extra wine glass, and what appeared to be a tray of chocolate covered strawberrie. She watched as Olivia followed her line of sight and took note of how Olivia's face flushed with embarrassment and awareness of optics. _This bitch. _Mellie thought as she looked from Olivia's "deer in a headlight" expression to her husband's tightly drawn, scowling face. _What the hell is going on?_ She thought.

"Where are my manners!" Mellie exclaimed. "Hi, surprise!" Mellie hugged Olivia tightly. "I wanted to see how the State of the Union was coming along and thought that we'd come by and see if you were free for dinner."

"Umm, it's, umm, going great I would say. As for dinner, I'm not really dressed to go out." Olivia nervously gestured toward herself while mentally slapping her forehead for calling unwanted attention to her state of undress.

"Clearly." Fitz scoffed, having finally found his voice. He was finding it difficult to take in air, which, among other things, was causing his brain to short circuit. Olivia was wearing too little; Mellie was standing too close to him. Olivia's robe appeared to be made of the softest silk on the planet, begging to be rubbed gently between his fingers; Mellie had yet to remove her hand from his forearm. Olivia's negligee left little to the imagination, yet annoyingly hid from Fitz's hungry stare; Mellie took an unwelcomed step closer to Fitz, her cheeks and neck flushed – red.

"Thanks for the thought Mellie, you two enjoy your din—"

"Liv?" A voice called from behind a wall of Secret Service agents.

"It's okay Tom, let him through."

"HIM" Both Mellie and Fitz exclaimed in unison.

"Sir?" Tom questioned Fitz, seeking permission to grant Olivia's request.

"You heard her…let him through." Fitz stretched his neck to see beyond the wall of his agents. His eyes became tiny slits as he watched the unnamed man walk around Mellie and hungrily eye Olivia as he entered her cabin.

"You promised me whipped cream." The man said as he surveyed the coffee table. Fitz took an involuntary step forward but was rendered immobile by Olivia's next words.

"In the kitchen…I always keep my promises." She turned toward the man, sparing a glance over her shoulder at the couple in the doorway. "Enjoy your dinner, Mellie." As Mellie turned to walk away, Fitz stood rooted in his spot with an indescribable look on his face. "See you tomorrow Mr. President…not too early." She smirked and leveled a challenging gaze on his face. After a beat, he pulled out Cyrus' cellphone and intermittently glared up at her while pounding on the screen. He placed the phone back in his pocket, turned on his heels, and walked away.

As Olivia closed the door, she picked up her previously discarded wine glass and her cellphone off of the nearby table. She shook her head and laughed as she quickly read the text illuminating the screen.

**POINT TAKEN. NOW TAKE MINE: YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO GET RID OF HIM BEFORE I DRAG HIM OUT BY HIS BALLS MYSELF. **


	5. Another You In A Minute

Chapter 4. Another You In A Minute

**8:45pm EST – Camp David**

"When you said around the corner I didn't think you meant literally around the corn—" Olivia, having swung the door open as she attempted to place her wine glass on the nearby table, paused midsentence upon straightening up and turning to face the entryway. She stared apprehensively at the two figures in her doorway. "Mellie. Mr. President. Wh-what are you doing here?" She greeted, drawing the lapels of her white silk robe close together in hopes of hiding the red lacey negligee that lie beneath.

Neither Mellie nor Fitz immediately returned Olivia's greeting. Each stared at Olivia with differing expressions and vastly different thoughts taking root in their respective consciousness. For Mellie's part, she eyed Olivia up and down, taking in her appearance, or lack thereof, and noting the candles, bottle of Shiraz and extra wine glass, and what appeared to be a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. She watched as Olivia followed her line of sight and took note of how Olivia's face flushed with embarrassment and awareness at the optics. _This bitch. _Mellie thought as she looked from Olivia's "deer in a headlight" expression to her husband's tightly drawn, scowling face. _What the hell is going on?_ She thought.

"Where are my manners!" Mellie exclaimed. "Hi, surprise!" Mellie hugged Olivia tightly. "I wanted to see how the State of the Union was coming along and thought that we'd come by and see if you were free for dinner."

"Umm, it's, umm, going great I would say. As for dinner, I'm not really dressed to go out." Olivia nervously gestured toward herself while mentally slapping her forehead for calling unwanted attention to her state of undress.

"Clearly." Fitz scoffed, having finally found his voice. He was finding it difficult to take in air, which, among other things, was causing his brain to short circuit. Olivia was wearing too little; Mellie was standing too close to him. Olivia's robe appeared to be made of the softest silk on the planet, begging to be rubbed gently between his fingers; Mellie had yet to remove her hand from his forearm. Olivia's negligee left little to the imagination, yet annoyingly hid from Fitz's hungry stare; Mellie took an unwelcomed step closer to Fitz, her cheeks and neck flushed – red.

"Thanks for the thought Mellie, you two enjoy your din—"

"Liv?" A voice called from behind a wall of Secret Service agents.

"It's okay Tom, let him through."

"HIM" Both Mellie and Fitz exclaimed in unison.

"Sir?" Tom questioned Fitz, seeking permission to grant Olivia's request.

"You heard her…let him through." Fitz stretched his neck to see beyond the wall of his agents. His eyes became tiny slits as he watched the unnamed man walk around Mellie and hungrily eye Olivia as he entered her cabin.

"You promised me whipped cream." The man said as he surveyed the coffee table. Fitz took an involuntary step forward but was rendered immobile by Olivia's next words.

"In the kitchen…I always keep my promises." She turned toward the man, sparing a glance over her shoulder at the couple in the doorway. "Enjoy your dinner, Mellie." As Mellie turned to walk away, Fitz stood rooted in his spot with an indescribable look on his face. "See you tomorrow Mr. President…not too early." She smirked and leveled a pointed gaze on his face. After a beat, he pulled out Cyrus' cellphone and intermittently glared up at her while tapping away at the screen. He placed the phone back in his pocket, turned on his heels, and walked away.

As Olivia closed the door, she picked up her previously discarded wine glass and her cellphone off of the nearby table. She shook her head and chuckled as she quickly read the text illuminating the screen.

**POINT TAKEN. NOW TAKE MINE: YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO GET RID OF HIM BEFORE I DRAG HIM OUT BY HIS BALLS MYSELF. **

* * *

**7:30pm EST – Camp David**

"What are you wearing?" Fitz asked slowly as he sunk deeper into his chair. He'd dismissed his security council for the evening and had 15 minutes before the last briefing of the night. He was determined to make the most of his downtime.

"Fitz," Olivia warned. "No."

"What?" He asked innocently. "I'm just making sure you're warm enough. Would hate for you to catch a cold."

"I bet."

"Seriously, what are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

"N-nothing?" Fitz audibly gulped and reached up to loosen his tie and collar. He moaned as his imagination began to run away from him.

"Nope." Olivia laughed softly. "I've got a date tonight and he's almost certain to get lucky so…"

"Almost certain?" Fitz interrupted as a slow, easy smile began to spread across his face. "We both know better."

"Why Mr. President, did you just call me easy?" Olivia sassed.

"Anything but. I just know you are a sucker for this one thing I do with my tong—"

"Fiiiiitz" Olivia whined.

"I'm just saying." He chuckled at her being obviously hot and bothered. "Tonight, I'm gon—. Hold on one second, Tom's at the door."

Olivia closed her eyes and fanned herself as she waited for Fitz to come back on the line. Images of Fitz tangled in her sheets came to a screeching halt as she heard his next words.

"Mellie's 45mins out."

"Out where?"

"Liv…Mellie's on her way here." Fitz sighed. "And umm, she wants the three of us to have dinner." Fitz held his breath and waiting for her reply. As the seconds ticked away Fitz became more and more anxious. He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged a fistful in frustration.

"Liv?"

"What?"

"So dinner? 8:30 okay?"

"Absolutely not." Olivia paced the length of the living room and huffed at the response on the other end. "Are you serious right now...Because I don't want to go to dinner and sit across from your wife pretending you haven't spent the last three nights writing your speech with your tongue on the inside of my thighs."

"Now you're just being crass." Fitz rolled his eyes. While he understood her hesitation, theirs was a complicated situation which sometimes called for doing things all in the name of the bigger picture – being together. "What am I supposed to tell her?"

"I don't care what you tell her!" Olivia forced herself to take a deep breath. "Look, tell her I have a date."

Fitz involuntarily snorted and immediately slapped his hand over his mouth in hopes she hadn't heard the noise.

No such luck.

"Really Fitz?" Olivia stated, eerily calm. "That's funny to you? Me having a date?"

"No…god no, look I just, I didn't mean anything. It's just you know, I mean you are a beautiful and desirable woman but…"

"But?" She challenged.

"But, you know…everyone, umm, thinks of you as a nun – thinks you don't date."

"Perhaps I should change that perception…you know, for reasons and all."

"Olivia" he warned.

"Mr. President."

"Look," he sighed. "I have another meeting right now, but we will be by around 8:30 to get you. You know I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice. And I _promise_ you, if you bring your wife to my cabin door, you will regret it." She spoke slowly and clearly, making sure he heard every word. "Goodnight Mr. President, enjoy dinner."

Olivia hung up and steeled her spine against the crushing blow of reality. The last few days had been a dream. She and Fitz had lived in their own little world where nothing or no one else existed outside of them. There was no wife or obligations; there was only the work they loved and seemingly endless time to bask in the presence and arms of the other. With Mellie came reality and with reality came guilt. She no longer wanted to be in this, in them.

She straightened to her full height and made her way to the bedroom. As she stepped into the "gift" meant for Fitz she dialed a familiar, yet shamefully rarely used, number.

"Hello?"

"I need a favor."

* * *

**8:52pm EST – Camp David**

"Put that down!" Olivia paced in front of the fireplace with and hands on her hip. "Those aren't for you."

"Surely I can have one Liv." He teased as he reclined in his seat and took an enthusiastic bite out of a plump strawberry.

"Don't get comfortable." She snapped. "Ben, seriously, you have to go…like now!"

"Still the same Olivia I see." Ben mused as he rose to his feet. "I'd hate to be the guy who pissed you off tonight."

"You will be if you don't get the hell out of here…NOW!" She started to shove him toward the door but almost fell over when he stopped abruptly and turned around.

"Not so fast, I believe we had a deal." He looked down at her expectantly and raised an eyebrow when she didn't move.

She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. She placed her left hand on his shoulder for balance as she reached down and removed her heels. Shoving them toward him she shook her head in disbelief. "What are you going to do with them anyway? You and your shoe fetish…"

He smirked and cradled the bright red Christian Louboutin heels close to his chest. "What? I like beautiful things and these costs a fortune."

"Good night Benjamin." Olivia opened the door and looked at her previously welcomed guest expectantly. "Tell Derek I'll be over one day soon for dinner or something."

"Yeah yeah, heard that before." He leaned down and kissed her cheek affectionately. "Be careful Liv."

Olivia exhaled in relief as she rested against the closed door. Her relief, however, was short lived when loud sharp knocks broke through the silence.

"What?" She huffed as she snatched the door open. Leaning against the doorframe, with one hand in his pocket and fire in his eyes, was Fitz. His eyes slowly traveled down her body, pausing at the various peaks and valleys. He pushed himself upright and sauntered into the cabin.

"I thought he'd never leave."

He picked up her wine glass and downed its content. His tongue darted out to taste the remnants of the wine and she cursed herself for being powerless to stop her eyes from following his tongue's path.

They stared at one another, neither making a sound. Fitz softly placed the glass on the table and closed the gap between them. He waited silently for her to meet his gaze. He lightly palmed her cheek, releasing the breath he did not realize he was holding, as she subconsciously leaned into his touch.

"Point taken."


End file.
